


Love, Rose

by wolfworldstars



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: EngNor, F/F, HWS Yuri Week 2020, Human AU, Letters, Nyotalia, noreng, nyo!EngNor, nyo!NorEng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfworldstars/pseuds/wolfworldstars
Summary: Shortly after moving to England, Lotte meets Rose at a party, and from then on the two of them exchange letters as they slowly become more intimateHWS Yuri Week 2020 prompt: Letters (Day 1)
Relationships: England/Norway (Hetalia), Female England/Female Norway (Hetalia)
Kudos: 6





	Love, Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for HWS Yuri Week 2020 on Tumblr

If there was one thing Lotte disliked above all else, it was parties. The constant music and chatter, and the hustle and bustle of the people parading about on and off the dance floor overwhelmed her. She would have much preferred to sit at home with her younger brother, but her parents had insisted that she come along. To help the family’s reputation after moving to England from Norway so recently, her mother had said, by showing what a lovely and sociable daughter they had. Perhaps she might even find a nice man to marry.

Lotte crinkled her nose at the thought, and at the stench of the champagne she swirled around in her glass. The bubbles tickled her face as she stared into it rather than watching the other people in the room. She had no interest in them, if she had it her way she would stay at the table in the corner by herself the whole night and not converse with anyone.

“Hello there.” A voice came from over her shoulder, haughty and regal in nature, though there was nothing unkind about the tone.

Lotte started at the sudden noise, almost upsetting her drink as she fumbled to set it down on the table.

“Oh dear, I didn’t mean to startle you. I do apologise.” The speaker glided around the table to stand in front of Lotte. She bowed her head in apology, her long blond hair falling over her face. It fell back as she straightened up to show a gracious smile and kind blue eyes the same azure shade as her dress.

“It’s perfectly alright,” Lotte amended quietly, twirling a lock of her own pale hair around her finger. She glanced away from the other woman, inwardly cursing her own shyness.

The woman pulled out a chair next to Lotte and primly sat down. “I just wanted to check you were alright. It is not often that I see someone seated alone at one of father’s parties.”

Lotte waved a dismissive hand. “There’s nothing wrong. I just prefer to be away from crowds, is all.”

“Ah, I see,” she inclined her head towards the dance floor where Lotte’s friend Magnus was causing a ruckus with two other noblemen’s sons who she knew as Gilbert and Alfred. “I do not blame you.”

The corner of Lotte’s mouth quirked into a small smile, then her brow furrowed. “Sorry, you said this was your father’s party?”

“Yes. Rose Kirkland, at your service.” Rose slid a hand through her blond locks, tossing them over her shoulder.

“Lotte Myhre.” She nodded as she introduced herself, keeping her hands clasped on her lap to avoid a handshake if possible.

Rose seemed to sense her wish, and lowered her own hand to her side, though her expression remained amiable. “Oh, Myhre. You moved to England recently, if I am correct? How are you finding it?”

Lotte shrugged, beginning to play with her hair again. “It’s nice, the countryside is lovely. Though the cities are busier than I was expecting.”

Rose considered this. “I suppose it is rather busy here, though I have grown up with it so I barely notice it now. And I’m afraid London is the worst place for that.” She glanced at something over Lotte’s shoulder, her eyes widening. “Alfred, don’t-” She began to stand, pausing to look back at Lotte. “Excuse me, I must go and deal with this. It has been splendid to make your acquaintance.” She smiled pleasantly before marching towards the refreshments table with a thunderous expression. 

\----------

Several days passed after the party, in which Lotte would occasionally smile as she recalled her brief interaction with Rose. She had seemed very nice, outwardly what others would describe as the perfect English lady, but she had a sharp wit and sarcastic humour. She could perhaps be a good friend if they ever met again, but Lotte wasn’t expecting that to happen any time soon. She certainly wasn’t expecting Rose to try and contact her.

“A letter for you, miss.” The maid held an envelope to Lotte as she reached the bottom of the stairs one morning at breakfast time.

Still in her silk nightgown, Lotte yawned, blearily taking hold of it. The paper was good quality, enough to indicate that it must be from another noble family, though there was no seal on the back. After she fetched her breakfast, she almost forgot about the letter, and it lay on her desk for a good part of the morning. After all, she wasn’t expecting anything important. It was only when she sat down to do a little writing before lunch that her eyes landed upon it again.

“Just who are you from?” She enquired softly as she opened the envelope. The scent of roses wafted from the paper when she removed it, and grew stronger when it was unfolded.

_Dear Lotte Myhre,_

_It was wonderful to meet you at my father’s party last week. I would be delighted if we could stay in touch._

_Regards,_

_Rose Kirkland_

Lotte’s lips parted in surprise as she read through the words. Concise though it was, this was a bold declaration of friendship, perhaps one that was secret from Rose’s parents given the absence of a seal on the back.

She picked up a quill and dipped it in the pot of ink which rested beside a stack of paper on her tidy desk. The quill hovered above the page as she considered how she should begin her reply, for so long that a spot of ink dripped onto the paper. Cursing as she would never do in company, Lotte screwed up the paper and picked up a fresh sheet. Since Rose had used dear, it would be proper for Lotte to do so as well.

_Dear Rose Kirkland,_

She paused again. It was rare that Lotte wrote to anyone other than Magnus, her childhood friend with whom she could be as informal as she pleased. She had no idea how to word such a letter. Rose’s had been short, so perhaps she wouldn’t mind a reply of a similar length.

_It was lovely to meet you. I too would like to converse further._

_Yours,_

_Lotte Myhre_

She deliberated over whether or not to add a seal, since Rose had not done. In the end, she opted to go without. The prospect of receiving an unmarked letter, yet knowing exactly who it was from and opening it in secret almost added a romantic air to the situation.

The reply arrived several days later, in an identical envelope.

_Dear Lotte,_

_Many thanks for your response. I am pleased to be able to discuss matters with another lady. I hope it is not too presumptuous for me to state that we could become good friends yet._

_Yours,_

_Rose_

From then on, her letters appeared in much the same fashion. Sprayed with the same rose-scented perfume, always starting with _dear Lotte,_ and ending with _yours, Rose._ They wrote at least once per week, occasionally more often, and over time the letters grew longer, involving more and more personal details as the two women became closer.

On a September day, the post was delayed by a rainstorm, and Lotte sat in her room to open the most recent letter by candlelight in the evening.

_Dear Lotte,_

_My apologies for my delay in replying. Life has been busy in my household as of late; while Fiona’s wedding is next month, my parents are encouraging me to follow in her footsteps. Needless to say, it is proving difficult to find a suitor, they all seem to think I am too bold and several have privately said that I am impertinent. Life would be so much simpler if the world was filled with only women. While the company of men can be enjoyable, the ones I have courted are severely lacking in romantic aspects in several areas. Though they are prioritised in education, they do not understand the power of the written word as we do. I would be hard pressed to find one who writes as eloquently as you, my dear._

A small smirk graced Lotte’s face as she read the paragraph, replaced by a blush at the last sentence. After reading the letter, she clasped it to her chest as a sigh escaped her lips. Reading Rose’s tender words brought a warmth to her heart that she could neither describe nor understand. She was sure no man could ever make her feel this way. A soft smile on her face, she began to write a reply.

_Dear Rose,_

_There is no need to apologise, my parents have much the same attitude. A girl with your beauty and intellect should have no trouble finding a suitor, and perhaps it is a testament their suitability rather than your own that they would turn you down. Were I a man, I would be able to think of no greater partner._

They continued to exchange similar letters for several months, until one day in December. Lotte opened the letter as she would any other, sliding the knife under the flap and carefully removing the paper. But this time her eyes settled on the first two words.

_Dearest Lotte,_

She stared at the page, suddenly short of breath. It was such a simple change of tone, yet it struck something in Lotte’s heart. Rose wasn’t one to put such sentiment into a letter. She was formal and straightforward, but a wordsmith nonetheless, and seemed to know the exact implications of each phrase she used. She wondered if Rose could possibly be proclaiming that she, Lotte, was the person dearest to her heart…

After minutes of careful consideration, she picked up a quill and began to scribe a reply.

_My dearest Rose…_

\----------

Lotte felt as if she was holding her breath for a week until a reply was finally delivered to her house. She opened it with slightly trembling fingers, and sighed when she read the first phrase.

_My darling Lotte,_

Lotte could barely focus as she read over the paragraphs updating her on the events of Rose’s life. When she reached the last one, her heart almost stopped. She sat down on her bed, a hand clasped against her heart.

_My dear friend, I am glad that we have become so close. Though we have lived not far from each other for several months, I regret that we did not speak until the party. I often noticed you at church, and occasionally you would take a hiking route which just so happened to pass my window. I should inform you that our friendship is the dearest thing in my life, and I pray that our hearts may stay entwined as they are for the rest of our lives._

_Love, Rose_


End file.
